


6. Lines in Time - The Devilsgate Saga

by Denise_Felt



Series: The Devilsgate Saga [6]
Category: Gerry Anderson's UFO
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-10
Updated: 2010-06-10
Packaged: 2017-10-10 01:29:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/93728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Denise_Felt/pseuds/Denise_Felt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Straker writes a letter to an old friend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	6. Lines in Time - The Devilsgate Saga

## 6\. Lines in Time

  
by Denise Felt 2010

  
_A SHADO Writers’ Guild challenge story; original title: Lines of Communication._

_Dedicated to Louise, who gave me the idea._

_  
_The older man sat at his desk writing. The night was far advanced, and he should have been upstairs sleeping with his wife in their warm feather bed. But he’d wakened with a need to talk to his old friend, so here he was in his study with one lone candle lighting the desktop, listening to the wind rattling against the windows and writing a letter. His quill scratched against the fine linen of the paper as he wrote, with pauses now and then as he dipped it into the stand to refresh the ink. The stone house was quiet around him as he penned his lines – and spoke to another time and another place.

  
_November 12, 1797_

_Claringbold Manor, Devilsgate_

_  
Dear Alec,_

_  
I have missed you more than I know how to express. But somehow, your grin manages to follow me through my days, laughing at me when I find myself in trouble. And sometimes I even hear your voice in my mind, telling me to stop thinking so hard and just enjoy myself! But those times don’t happen as often as they used to. I have a wife who makes certain that I don’t get too lost in my work that I forget to come play with her and our children._

_  
It may seem odd to you that I have a houseful of children. Sometimes, it still seems odd to me, as well. I occasionally think back to those years at HQ, when the only family I had was a son I barely got to see and the ruin of a marriage that left a bad taste in my mouth. How far I’ve come since then! Not just in terms of the centuries that now separate us, but in terms of the life I have here in Devilsgate. I am remarried, and to a wonderful woman. You would like her, I think. She makes me laugh, and makes me proud. She is fearless and brave and beautiful – and all the things I find irresistible in a lifelong companion. And she’s a redhead. I know you’d approve of that. But in all honesty, I have never known anyone like her, and I hope to enjoy many more years with her before I pass on to whatever reward awaits me. I used to worry about that – where I would spend the eternities after this life is over. There are so many deaths on my shoulders, after all. But these days I find that I don’t worry so much about that. When I look into the eyes of my baby girls as they giggle or listen to my young sons tell me about their adventures during the day, I know that I have found peace at last. With myself . . ._

_  
And with whatever waits for me beyond._

_   
_ _I hope that SHADO is doing well without me there. Jake Davenport is a good man, and I hope that you can all give him the respect he deserves as your new leader. I used to worry about that too, which probably doesn’t surprise you. You always said I worried too much. But I was afraid that you would all stand against him and refuse to accept his leadership. And that would be disastrous, because SHADO needs a strong leader in order to even have a chance of surviving against our enemy. And Jake can be that leader – if you give him the opportunity. I hope you have. I hope you’re winning the war. I wish all the best for all of you there. Speaking of which, perhaps someone should see that Ford finally gets his promotion._

_  
My oldest child turned ten today – two years older than John was the last time I saw him. It was good to look into his eyes as I wished him a happy day and see the wonderful man he is becoming. He’s such a good boy; the first one to volunteer to help and the last one to say he’s done enough. He makes me very proud – and reminds me of a good friend I once had. I named him after you. I hope you don’t mind. Sometimes when he grins at me, I can almost see you in his face. Perhaps that’s fanciful of me, but it’s true nonetheless._

_   
_ _I know this letter will never reach you. I know you’ll probably spend your life wondering what became of me, unless you somehow come upon the painting my wife had done of me. In which case, I hope you have a drink for me to celebrate the fact that I survived. You’re the best friend I ever had, and I’ve had a few good ones since I came here to the past. But even Booth, who has my back every time we go to battle, cannot compare to my oldest and dearest friend. My Alec._

_  
Oh, I guess I should let you know that I do still have battles to face here in the past. You see, the aliens have been coming to Devilsgate for a long time, harvesting organs in a time period when no one has the firepower to stop them. Except that we do. We stop them. We’ve done our best to make their sojourns here unprofitable for them, in the hopes that sooner or later, they’ll tire of losing so many ships and crews that they’ll cease coming altogether. But just in case they don’t, my children are being raised to fight them too. We’ll protect the future for all of you in SHADO, Alec, even as we’ll continue to protect our village._

_  
By the way, feel free to congratulate me. My adorable wife is once more with child. And it’s about time. She was sad when Peter started walking, because she so enjoys them as babies. So have a cigar for me and know that I am very happy with the fate that time has brought me._

_  
I remain,_

_Ever your friend,_

_Ed Straker_

_SHADO C-in-C, retired_

_  
_He put down the quill and blotted the sheet of paper. Then he set the letter in his special drawer, where he kept all the other letters, the ones he occasionally wrote late at night to a man who would never receive them. And Edward Straker – esteemed owner of the Claringbold Manor and all its outlaying estates, local hero and trusted friend, loving husband and adored father – took his candle and went upstairs to bed.


End file.
